Death and the Maiden
by deepfathom
Summary: -ON HOLD UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE- The Ghostbusters' battle with the Sorcerer ended with only one casualty. Now they, Janine and Reggie must find a way into Limbo and rescue the Ex-Custodian from the clutches of Death himself. -Part three-
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Maiden_:

_Oh! leave me! Prithee, leave me! thou grisly man of bone!_

_For life is sweet, is pleasant._

_Go! leave me now alone!_

_Go! leave me now alone!_

_Death__:_

_Give me thy hand, oh! maiden fair to see,_

_For I'm a friend, hath ne'er distress'd thee._

_Take courage now, and very soon_

_Within mine arms shalt softly rest thee!_

~"Death and the Maiden", by Matthias Claudius

xxxx

Sophie could hear voices floating into the darkness surrounding her. They sounded familiar, but she couldn't be sure. And she seemed to be the subject of conversation.

"We did it!" one of them shouted excitedly. "We got rid of the Sorcerer! He's outta here!"

"Finally," somebody else said, sounding relieved.

Sophie's jumbled thoughts tried to piece themselves back together. She hurt all over and felt like she'd been run over a couple times by a large truck.

The last thing she remembered was a cemetery and a thunderstorm, and a deep, dark place full of terrible pain. A faceless, black-robed figure with blazing green eyes loomed up through these thoughts—

Sophie gasped sharply in horror, eyes snapping open. She was lying flat on her back on the ground of the same cemetery, looking straight up at the sky. The storm was now gone and it was lighter, but growing pink with another autumn sunset framed by the New York Skyline.

Then it all came rushing back. Everything that had happened over the last few days played through her memory like a frightening movie. But out of all the confusion, one thing was certain: she was still here and the Sorcerer was not. The Ghostbusters had saved her. She could go back to a normal life, back to Reggie.

"Don't get too excited yet." That was Dr. Spengler. "We still have one problem. A big one."

What on earth did he mean by that?

"Now what?" asked Dr. Venkman.

"Wherever the Sorcerer went…whatever was left of Sophie must've gone there with him."

Sophie sat bolt upright, stomach sinking. She had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't sound promising.

"Oh, _crap_!" Dr. Venkman replied.

She couldn't have put it better herself. She took a sweeping glance at her surroundings. The cemetery was destroyed. There were scorch marks from the battle and everything that had previously been standing—the trees, the headstones, the mausoleum—were blown to bits.

The Ghostbusters and Janine looked a little worse for wear, hair standing on end, their jumpsuits ripped and they seemed to have gotten knocked off their feet. But they were only five feet away from her and speaking as if she no longer existed.

"Hey!" Sophie called, waving her arms. "I'm right here! What's going on?"

No answer. In fact, they didn't even look her way.

"So what do we do now?" Mr. Zeddemore asked as they got to their feet.

"Well, first we go wake up that other kid," Dr. Venkman started.

"And then we get back to the Firehouse to figure out what went wrong," Dr. Stantz finished.

That _definitely _didn't sound good. Sophie stood up and followed Dr. Venkman about twenty feet past the others. There, lying in a heap was Reggie. Apparently, he'd taken one to the head and was just beginning to come round.

"Reggie!" Sophie screamed, rushing over to him and dropping down. She reached out to touch the large welt just above his left ear, but her hand went right through him. Shocked and horrified, she froze.

Dr. Venkman bent down to one knee and tapped Reggie's forehead as the others approached.

"Ok, kid, party's over. You can wake up now."

Reggie moaned. "Oww… Wha...huh?"

"Venkman whacked you upside the head with a tree branch," Janine informed him flatly as she and the others arrived by his side.

"Hey," Dr. Venkman said, "it was necessary, ok?"

Reggie didn't seem to register any of this and his eyes remained closed.

"Careful," Dr. Stantz said as he and Dr. Spengler hauled him to his feet, slinging his arms around their shoulders. He was still only half-conscious so they had no choice but to drag him along as they hurried away.

Sophie staggered back, arm still extended and a dizzying realization coursing through every inch of her being…

She was dead.


	2. Wake Up Call

**Chapter 1**

**Wake Up Call**

"_What will be left when I've drawn my last breath besides the folks I've met and the folks who know me? Will I discover a soul-saving love or just the dirt above and below me?"_

~From the song "Doubting Thomas", by Nickel Creek

xxxx

Sophie had no idea it was possible to throw up in the afterlife, but that was all she could do in the few minutes since the others had dragged Reggie away. Finally, with the last of the shell-shocked stomach cramps out of the way, she managed to get a hold of herself. Coughing and straightening up from her bent-over-double position, she drew a sleeve across her mouth, scrambled to her feet and bolted after the group. Maybe, just maybe, she could get through to them somehow before they left.

She caught up to Janine and the Ghostbusters about thirty feet from the entrance, just in time to see Dr. Stantz and Dr. Spengler open the doors of the car (which seemed to have taken a beating in the process of whatever happened while she was out) and lift Reggie in. A large crowd, complete with news crews, flooded into the cemetery now that the commotion was over, eager for the details on the weird occurrences they had witnessed. The Ghostbusters, however, ignored flashing cameras and pushy reporters with grim-set faces.

"Wait!" Sophie cried desperately after them. "Stop, I'm right here! Can't you hear me?"

Nobody seemed to notice. No one at all.

"Please! Don't go!"

Janine, the last one to start sliding onto the seat beside Dr. Spengler, paused and looked around quizzically.

"What is it?" Dr. Spengler asked, poking his head out.

"I…" Janine started, "I thought I heard…" she shook her head. "Never mind. I think I'm a little on edge still, that's all." With that, she got in the car and closed the door behind her. The engine revved to life, and the dented vehicle cut a backwards path through the bystanders to the entrance.

Sophie stood in shock as she watched them go and leave her totally alone in a sea of people.

"No!" she shouted, snapping into a panic and sprinting after the car just as it turned out onto the street. "Come back! Don't go!" She rounded the corner past one of the solemn pillars standing at the entrance, but it was too late. The car was halfway down the street. It rattled into traffic and disappeared, giving off puffs of smoke and dropping chunks of metal on the way.

"Don't leave me…" Sophie choked on the sob that welled up inside her and streams of tears spilled down her cheeks. Overcome with misery, she sank, wrapping her arms around her middle.

What now? The Ghostbusters had done all they could to help her, but she'd gone and kicked the bucket anyway. Not much of a "thank you" on her part. What was more, those weirdos had to tell her family that she'd been killed by a maniacal wizard's ghost, and who knew how well thatwould go over. Then there was Reggie. This was going to devastate him, but she couldn't do anything to contact or comfort him. She had never felt so isolated and helpless before…or afraid.

It was then she heard the buzzing sound above her. Wiping her eyes, she lifted her head slowly until she found the source of the noise. The sky had faded into night and the streetlamps along the sidewalk were beginning to come on, but the ones nearest to her fizzled and crackled.

This was the final blow. This, of all things, had to be the last grain of salt in the agonizing list of wounds she'd accumulated. She still had her power after all she'd been through, even though she was dead.

It was just too much. A sudden surge of rage rushed through her and without stopping to think about anything, Sophie jumped up, letting loose an anguished yell. She whipped around to face the pillar to her right as the streetlights gave one more spark and went out, drawing the attention of the crowd still wandering around in the cemetery. She threw a fist at the pillar, but it went straight through as if it was made of air. Now, even more frustrated, horrified, and confused, she took another swing, and another and another, trying to take out her anger on nothing at all.

Finally, she collapsed face-first to the ground, defeated.

xxxx

It was well into the night before Sophie came back to her senses. The "City That Never Sleeps" hurried on all around her as she opened her eyes.

She noticed for the first time that the world was dull. All the color, sound and sharpness of life was fuzzy around the edges at best. It made sense since she wasn't really alive at all and was viewing everything as if from behind a foggy window.

She felt like she was lying on the ground, but she wasn't touching it. Instead, she hovered above it about half an inch. Sophie was no longer a member of the physical plane, but a remnant of her living self, floating along through everyone and everything else. She was a ghost.

Sophie blinked and sat up. That thought didn't quite click for some reason and her mind suddenly filled up with questions. If she was a ghost, how come nobody could see or hear her? People saw ghosts around the city all the time. That was how the Ghostbusters stayed in business, after all.

She stood up and took a look around. The streetlights had come back on again and the crowd had largely dispersed, but a few people still hung around as if expecting something else to happen—wait, the streetlights! Her power!

Sophie gasped as a thought hit her like a slap in the face. She'd been too busy trying to punch the wall to realize it before now. How could she still have her power if she was dead?

"You can't take it with you," she murmured to the night, trying to wrap her brain around the concept. The telekinesis should have vanished the moment her heart stopped beating.

Without warning, her mind flashed back to that deep, cavernous space.

_She came round, unable to move. The black-robed ghost standing above her was chanting in a weird language. She was lying on a hard stone slab in a dark room, probably beneath the mausoleum. The skeletons must have dragged her down here after the Head Ghost hit her. She hurt everywhere, but the headache was nearly blinding. The scene abruptly shifted into blackness for a few seconds…_

_Then, the Head Ghost's chanting reached a terrible peak and the pain in her head shot down through her whole body like an electric shock. His fierce green eyes locked with hers before an orange light engulfed everything. She felt as if something was being ripped out of her very being. A crack of thunder echoed down the twisted steps of the mausoleum as she opened her mouth and screamed…_

Sophie took a sharp, choking breath, eyes snapping open just as she tipped over backwards and landed flat on her back. The invisible barrier between her and the sidewalk—the "ground", or whatever it was called—was surprisingly solid, not to mention painful.

After a few moments of lying there to let her breathing return to normal, she rolled to her side.

"It's over," she told herself shakily. "The Sorcerer's gone. So is the black ghost and so are all the skeletons." Her mind had cleared out enough to accept this fact and start concentrating on the current predicament. 

From what she'd been able to gather, she was most likely dead, but certain evidence seemed to point to a different scenario. And if that scenario was true, maybe by some incredible twist of fate, she could get out of it. But she was never going to get anywhere by spit-balling ideas in the dark by herself. She needed more brainpower…she needed the Ghostbusters.

But how was she supposed to communicate with them? They couldn't see or hear her… Wait, the Ghostbusters themselves couldn't, but maybe _Janine_ could—

"Hey, you!" somebody shouted from across the street, breaking into Sophie's last encouraging thought.

Surprised, she looked up to see a tall man dressed in a snappy black suit and sunglasses coming toward her. He could see her! Even so, she didn't really trust him much and started backing away, ready to bolt if she needed to.

"Hold it right there!" he shouted again.

Before Sophie could turn around, he caught up and snagged her by an arm. She let out a frightened squeak and tried to struggle loose.

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm not gonna hoit you, I'm just here to collect you."

Sophie stopped short. "_Collect_ me?" That didn't sound very comforting at all.

"Yeah. Dat's my job: to collect wayward souls and bring'em in for registration. Makes it dat much easier to keep track of you 'til your fate can be decided by da boss."

"Wha…what?" Sophie was now completely baffled. Wayward souls? Registration? Boss?

"You're not dead, technically speaking," he continued, dropping her arm, "or alive, for dat matter."

Sophie blinked. She'd figured something was up by the way the evening had panned out, but the news was still a bit mind-boggling.

"If…if I'm not dead and I'm not alive," she asked, "where exactly am I?"

The man lifted up his sun glasses, throwing her a surprised look. "You don't know?"

"No, but I'd really like to." That was a lie, but Sophie was sure she wouldn't get any closer to finding her way out of this mess without a few answers.

"You're soita stuck right in da middle, kid."

Sophie stared blankly.

"Here, lemme show you." He gave her a slight push out into the street.

Sophie flinched as the oncoming traffic zoomed through her without stopping. This everything-goes-straight-through-you business, dead or not, was really disturbing.

"Ok, take a look down da street a ways."

Sophie squinted, but didn't notice anything different about this particular city block. "What am I looking at?"

The man sighed. "Look up to da left a little. It's pretty far down da road, but you can just make it out."

Sophie took several steps forward, trying to get a better view of whatever this guy was talking about. And then she saw a flickering red sign hovering in midair all the way down the street before her line of vision blurred out. She could barely see it at all, but she managed to read the writing: "Welcome to Limbo, New York City Division, 24218".

Sophie swallowed and turned to the man in disbelief. "Limbo? I'm in…_Limbo?_"

"Well, not yet, actually. We're above it at da moment." He motioned for her to follow him. "If you'll just come with me, miss…"

Sophie sighed and trailed after him. This wasn't really the break she'd been hoping for, but after everything she'd been through, what did she have to lose?


	3. Welcome to Limbo

**Chapter 2**

**Welcome to Limbo**

"_Where can a dead man go? A question with an answer only dead men know."_

~From the song "When in Rome", by Nickel Creek

xxxx

"Name's Tobias, by the way," the man said as they walked down the street. "I'll be your guide while you're in this plane of existence."

"Guide?" Sophie asked.

"Yeah. My official title is 'Psychopomp', or something fancy schmancy like dat."

"I think I like 'guide' better."

"I agree."

"So…what's a 'psychopop', anyway?"

"Dat's 'Psycho-_pomp_'," Tobias corrected. "Not everybody flat-out dies and goes straight one way or da other. A few, like you, get lost in all da hubbub and paperwoik along da way and need a little help. Dat's where we come in."

"Are you an 'Angel of Death' or something?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Tobias snorted. "I'm not an angel. Never have been, never will be. Like I said before, our job is to find lost souls like you and ferry'em through all da ins'n outs of Limbo and into da afterlife."

Sophie's stomach sank and she stopped walking abruptly.

"S'matter?"

"You said the afterlife. Level with me, Tobias. If I follow you, am I going to…to die?"

Tobias waved his hands. "No, no, no! I meant if ya _end up_ going to da afterlife. Sometimes people get kicked back outta Limbo into life again, but hey, dat's not for me to decide. Dat's up to da boss."

"Who's the boss?"

"Death. Who'd ya think it was?"

"Oh, sorry, I…I…" Sophie gulped, at a loss for words.

"No biggie." Tobias shrugged and started walking again.

They continued on for a minute or two in silence, which was fine with Sophie since she had a lot of new and confusing information to chew on.

"Why can't anybody but you hear or see me?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"There's a big difference between bein' in Limbo and bein' dead," Tobias answered. "You're not a ghost, if dat's what you've been wondering. Ghosts are da remains of completely dead people. You're not completely dead, just…mostly-dead, see? There are rules about all dis stuff, but they're pretty confusing. Hard to explain, catch my drift?"

Sophie nodded without saying a word. Her mind had shifted gears and was already busy contemplating a possibility.

"If I wanted to communicate with somebody who's still alive," she asked cautiously, "how would I go about doing it?"

"Foist off, you don't," Tobias said, stopping to aim a finger at her sternly. "Wanna know why? 'Cause once you're in Limbo, you don't get out again unless da Big Man decides otherwise."

Sophie came to a standstill to avoid running into his finger.

"And second," he continued, "da only way a person in your state could talk to anybody on da other side is if they could open up a channel to somebody with really special psychic abilities—" he stopped short and bit his lip as if he'd said too much. "But dat's pretty rare," he blurted quickly. "And don't even think about tryin' anything stupid, 'cause you'll get me in a heap of trouble and I'll get a demotion. And I _ain't _goin' back to being 'messenger boy' ever again. Not no way, not no how."

He turned and headed for the giant red sign which was now floating less than ten feet away.

Sophie stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to do or say. She could either stay up here in the city, alone and without any hope of contacting the Ghostbusters, or go on with Tobias into Limbo and figure something out from there.

"Well?" Tobias called from the middle of the street. He was standing beside a large manhole. "You comin' or not?"

Sophie hesitated, then made a split-second decision and took a step into the street to join him. He seemed like a decent guy, even if his job wasn't too pleasant.

"Good choice," he said, giving her a thumbs-up, after which he bent down and hauled the heavy cover off the manhole with a grunt. The lid clanged to the side, revealing a long staircase in a tunnel leading into the depths below. He nodded in her direction and motioned toward the passage. "After you."

xxxx

The Firehouse had been strangely quiet since the bedraggled group arrived back from their battle with the Sorcerer. As soon as they stepped out of Ecto-1, Egon and Ray hurried up to the second floor, eager to start working out the details of Sophie's disappearance. Not knowing what else to do, Janine trailed numbly after them to the kitchen in hopes of finding something warm to drink to take the edge off the evening's ordeal. That left Winston and Peter to drag Reggie out of the car and help him up the stairs. He'd come to his senses enough on the way back to the Firehouse for them to explain what had happened in the cemetery.

Now he was slumped on the couch at the far end of the room, holding a bag of ice to the lump on his head and staring off into space. He hadn't shown any signs of life or said a word since he'd been deposited there about an hour before. Peter and Winston sat at the table across the room from him.

"Kid looks terrible," Peter commented, sounding a little more concerned than he meant to let on. The guy was a bit annoying and clueless, but he couldn't help feeling for him. It was never easy to lose someone you cared about, and Sophie was lost in every sense of the word.

"You'd look bad too if you'd just witnessed your girlfriend being possessed and—"

"Been there, done that, Zed."

"Oh yeah. Sorry, man."

Peter waved him off. "That was a while ago. I think I'm over it."

There was a moment of silence between them. Egon and Ray were busy talking probabilities at a chalkboard in the lab area and they watched as Egon scribbled out complex equation.

"Doesn't all this hit you as weird, Peter?" Winston asked.

"What, the two braincases over there? Duh. Where've you been in the last—"

"No, no, I mean Sophie's disappearance."

Peter thought for a moment. "Yeah, it's not normal, especially for us. We've never lost a client before. It's gonna put a big fat dent in our record if we make this a habit."

Winston threw him a sharp look.

"What?"

"She wasn't a 'client', Peter, she was just a kid. An innocent kid who was dragged into all this and needed our help… And I'd say we botched the job pretty good, wouldn't you?"

xxxx

Sophie was beginning to wonder how much longer they had to go down the winding staircase when they came to a metal door painted with bright green, glowing letters.

Limbo: New York City Division 24218

Hours: 12 AM – 4 AM Seven Days a Week

"Well," Tobias said, reaching for the door handle. "Dis is it."

Sophie shivered as he opened and held the heavy door for her. When she stepped through, the sight that greeted her wasn't at all what she'd expected.

The gigantic dim room was filled to overflowing with people. All of them were milling around as if waiting for something. Some of them were talking to one another, others were busy browsing through what looked like travel brochures, and the rest stood there looking exactly how Sophie felt: baffled.

At the end of the line far across from them, the room narrowed and there was a desk. Behind it loomed a large, daunting black door. The people closest to the desk were seated in chairs along the walls, their expressions expectant and nervous.

All at once, the door opened and out came a tall, skinny woman with sharp features. She was pale and dressed in all black, like Tobias, and her dark hair was cropped into a severe bob. She glanced down through a pair of spectacles perched on the end of her nose at a clipboard in her hands.

"Barkowitz, Stanly A., college-league hockey brawl injury," she called shrilly. A young man sitting in one of the chairs closest to the desk jerked his head up, wide-eyed.

"R-right here…" he choked.

"You're next. Follow me."

The man stood and did as he was told. He passed through the door and it slammed shut behind him.

"Well," Tobias's voice derailed Sophie's horrified train of thought, "whaddaya think?"

Sophie became aware that her mouth was dangling open and she snapped it closed to swallow before answering.

"It's…it's like the DMV office!" She didn't know how else to put it.

"Huh!" Tobias snorted. "You think dis one's crowded, you should see da one over in New Joisey! Twice as small, twice as many people, not as nice."

"Wait, wait, you're saying there are _more_ of these places?"

"Yeah, sure!" said Tobias, sounding surprised. "Didn't you read da sign? Dis is da _New Yoik_ division. We got'em all over da place! Dis city ain't da only one with lost souls, you know. Now c'mon, we gotta get you checked in."

"Uh, b-but—"

Before Sophie could get anything else out, Tobias took her by the arm and pulled her along behind him to the left.


	4. The Business of Being Mostly Dead

**Chapter 3**

**The Business of Being Mostly-Dead**

Tobias came to a stop in front of yet another desk, almost causing Sophie to smack right into him. This one was a little more out of the way and not nearly as crowded as the desk at the narrow end of the room. It was occupied by a computer, several stacks of the same brochures Sophie had seen people reading, and backed by rows and rows of filing cabinets. To top it all off, a sign hovering above it read "New Arrivals".

"Got a new one, Cressida," Tobias addressed the woman behind the desk.

"Finally." Cressida put down the nail file she'd been using, sat up in her chair to the computer and began tapping away.

"Slow day?" Tobias asked casually.

"Ugh. You wouldn't believe it," she said, then looked up at Sophie. "Alright, I need your name and potential cause of death."

"'Potential'?" Sophie asked.

"Yeah," muttered Tobias, "you're not officially dead yet, remember?"

"Oh. Uh, I'm Sophie Martin and I…" She stopped to think. She had no idea what happened after the events down in the mausoleum. For all she knew, that was the end. "I think I was killed…er, almost killed by an evil wizard ghost…" she trailed off as Cressida looked up again and raised an eyebrow.

"_That's _a new one," she said as she typed it into the computer. She hit one last button and a printer sitting on top of the nearest filing cabinet spit out a piece of paper. Cressida stood, picked it up and attached it to a clipboard with a pen. "Sign this, please. It's a statement declaring your full awareness of your Pre-Post-Mortem state of being and your willingness to comply with all rules and regulations herein until you are officially declared deceased or otherwise."

"Mouthful much?" Tobias commented.

Cressida sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, well, I say it a lot. Here you go." She handed the clipboard over to Sophie.

Still pretty numb from everything up to this point, she took the document and scribbled out her signature by the little "X" at the bottom without giving it a second glance.

"Thank you," Cressida said, taking it back. "Come with me."

Blinking, Sophie trailed after her behind several rows of filing cabinets to an open area where a blue sheet hung on the wall. In front of it were a stool and a camera on a tripod.

"Have a seat." Cressida motioned to the stool.

Sophie obediently did as she was told as Cressida took her place behind the camera.

"On three. One, two, three."

Before Sophie had a chance to even think about changing the shocked expression on her face to something normal, the camera clicked and the flash nearly blinded her.

"Hey, I wasn't ready—"

"Sorry, no retakes," Cressida replied flatly as she crossed over to a small, humming machine. After a minute or so, she pulled a small card out of it, punched a hole in the top and attached it to a lanyard. "Your ID card." she said as she hung it around Sophie's neck. "_Don't _lose it."

Sophie took a look at the card. Printed next to her wide-eyed photo was her information: Sophie Martin, Wandering Soul #477529, accidental injury acquired in unknown dealings with a wizard—

"Follow me, please." Cressida took her by the arm and pulled her out of her thoughts and off the stool.

"Dat wasn't so bad, was it?" Tobias asked, smiling as they returned to the desk.

Cressida hit a button in a panel on top of it. "Antony?"

"_Yeah?_" a voice came back through an intercom speaker.

"I have another file for you to take to Isis."

"_Be there in a second…_"

Cressida sighed as she began straightening papers and stuffing them into a manila folder. Ten seconds later, a young man wearing a black t-shirt and pants came trotting in from somewhere Sophie couldn't see.

"Here." Cressida handed him the folder and off he went in the direction of the other desk.

Tobias gave Sophie a nudge with his elbow. "Dat used to be me," he whispered, grinning from ear to ear.

"So…is that it?" Sophie asked. "Am I done?"

"Not quite," said Cressida. "You still need one of these." She snatched a brochure from the top of one of the stacks. "Read this over while you wait to be called. It has all the information you need to know about your stay here in Limbo."

Sophie reached out slowly and took it. "Called? For what?"

Cressida sent Tobias an accusing look. "Didn't you explain _anything_ to her?"

"'Course I did, I promise! But I didn't get to every little thing." He shrugged. "She just had a lot of questions, y'know?"

"Alright, alright, never mind," she waved him off. "I'll explain. Sophie, everyone who comes through Limbo is required to have a personal interview with Death."

xxxx

It was far past midnight, but not everyone at the Firehouse was thinking about sleeping. Egon and Ray were still at the chalkboard, oblivious to everyone and everything around them. Peter, on the other hand, unable to keep his eyelids apart any longer, had finally dozed off with his head on the table.

Winston, the only other one still awake, got up from his own seat at the table and headed in the direction of Janine, who was curled up in a chair across the room. She didn't move as he covered her with the blanket he'd picked up on the way.

Then he turned to Reggie, still sitting on the couch where he'd been all evening, but now with his head in his hands. Winston had tried to give him some space, but was starting to get concerned and wanted to make sure he was still breathing.

He pulled up a chair off to the side of the couch. At the sound of its legs scraping on the floor, Reggie blinked up at him. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and his face was white as a sheet.

"You gonna be ok, man?" Winston ventured.

"Do I look like I'm gonna be ok?" Reggie mumbled.

"Stupid question. Sorry."

Reggie closed his eyes and shook his head. "I just can't believe this happened. And after all we did, we were still too late. She's gone…" his voice choked off.

"Well," said Winston, "if it makes you feel any better, I've been listening in on Ray and Egon. From what I could gather between all the technobabble, they're saying there's a chance she's not dead. She's just 'lost', if you know what I mean. Egon says there's a difference."

Reggie's overall blank expression didn't change much. After a minute or two of silence while he thought things over, he reached for a pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box.

"I…" he started, then paused to swallow, "I was going to propose to her a few days ago before all this happened." He opened the box and handed it to Winston.

Inside was a golden ring with a tiny diamond tucked into a twist at the top.

"Very nice," Winston said, voicing his approval.

"I saw it a couple days after I met her in the hospital and I knew…I just knew…" his voice cut out again and he dropped his eyes.

"That she was the one?"

Reggie looked up. "No. I knew she should have it."

"Oh."

"It's sounds completely stupid, but the second I laid eyes on it, I knew it was the right gift for the right girl. I wanted to give her something to help her _feel_ as pretty as she already is, inside and out. When we first met, I could tell she'd led the type of life that would make her think otherwise."

"So you bought it?"

"Huh. Are you kidding? It took me five months of paychecks from working two jobs to finally buy it and by then I realized I wanted to marry her. This was the perfect ring, too, but now…"

Winston flipped the lid shut with a snap and handed it back to Reggie. "We're gonna get her back. You have my word." He held up three middle fingers over his head. "Ghostbuster's honor."

xxxx

Sophie was seriously regretting her decision to follow Tobias into Limbo. She should have stayed above in the city and fended for herself. But no, now she was a wandering soul with an ID card to prove it and waiting in line for an interview with Death.

She hadn't even bothered opening the thick brochure. In fact, the only part of it she'd read was the back statement of "Also available in Spanish, Japanese, French, German and Yiddish", which didn't help her much.

Busy with her nervous thoughts as she nibbled on a fingernail or two while Tobias chatted with everyone around them, Sophie hadn't noticed the progress of the line. For the last hour, she'd been absentmindedly moving forward along with the crowd and was now very near to the desk where Isis was calling out names. It wasn't until Tobias spoke up that she realized how close she really was.

"Why doncha have a seat?" he gestured to one of the chairs along the wall.

Sophie blinked, then swallowed.

"S'matter?" asked Tobias, almost laughing. "Ain't ya never seen a chair before?"

Face flushing, she sank into her seat. The next few minutes seemed to drag on forever as the people sitting by her were summoned into the office. It was then Sophie realized that none of them seemed to be coming out again—

"Martin, Sophie" Isis called. "Unknown incident involving a wizard."

Sophie couldn't stop the rush of panic that shot through her at the sound of her name. Before she knew it, Tobias had her on her feet and was shoving her toward Isis.

"Go on, kid, you're up next!"

She threw a terrified glance back in his direction, but he stayed where he was. He wasn't going with her this time. This discovery only made her feel worse since he seemed to be the only likeable being in the whole outfit.

"Come with me, please," Isis said coolly as she checked something off on her clipboard.

Completely numb, Sophie had no choice but to follow her to the dark door. It loomed up in front of her like a tombstone with every step she took. Isis grasped its handle and pulled it open to the dimly lit room on the other side. Wide-eyed and breathless, Sophie stepped over the threshold.

It was a private office and she was standing in front of a solid black desk. On the other side, facing away from her, was a large desk chair.

The door clicked shut and Sophie whipped around to see that she was now totally alone.

"Hello, Sophie," the deep voice of the desk chair's hidden occupant sent a chill down her spine. "I've been expecting you."


	5. A Chat With Death

**Chapter 4**

**A Chat With Death**

"_If there's a master of death, I'll bet he's holding his breath as I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power."_

~From the song "Doubting Thomas", by Nickel Creek

xxxx

Sophie's mouth went dry as the chair swiveled slowly around. Seated in it with his elbows propped on the arm rests, long fingers clasped in front of him, was not the Grim Reaper she'd been half expecting. Dressed to the nines in a sharp black pinstripe suit, the man was more reminiscent of a 1930's gangster than a harbinger of doom. He was pallid and thin with a goatee and dark hair slicked back from his forehead. His expression was disturbingly calm as his black eyes met hers.

"Please, sit down." Death motioned to a polished wooden chair behind her.

Sophie sank into it without taking her eyes off him. There was a tense silence between them and she finally had to drop her gaze.

"You must have a lot of questions."

Sophie nodded.

Death leaned back in his chair while rubbing his chin. "Not everyone who walks into my office is lucky enough to be known by name."

_Who would want to be? _Sophie thought. She glanced up just in time to see Death's eyes narrow dangerously as if he'd read her mind. She swallowed and tried to clear out any other sarcastic remarks lurking in the corners.

"Sophie…" He sighed and stood up, coming around to the front of the desk. There he leaned against it and straightened the brass nameplate on its surface as if to reassert his dominance. "Do you know why you're here in Limbo?"

"B-because…because I almost died?"

"Exactly. Because you _almost_ died." He bent forward until his face was about a foot away from hers. "And this is the second time you've _almost_ died, although this incident brought you closer than the last."

Sophie gripped the armrests of her chair as Death stood and began to pace back and forth in front of her. This wasn't an interview, it was an interrogation.

"Last year," he said "you came face-to-face with one of the most evil and powerful deceased beings in the history of this city and would have perished if it weren't for the trick you pulled at the last second."

"But I don't even know what I did—"

"No matter. Somehow, you fought him off—albeit with a little extra help—and slipped through my fingers. This week, you suffered extensive bodily harm in the course of being possessed by the same entity and yet you _still_ didn't succumb. You're halfway there, though, and that's what I'd like to discuss with you now."

Sophie was so overwhelmed with shock that it took her a few seconds to say anything.

"How d-do you know about all this?" she stammered hoarsely.

"I am Death. I know everything I need to about you for my own purposes. You should have passed into my realm a long time ago."

"I don't understand," Sophie blurted, starting to feel a bit threatened. "Why is it such a bad thing that I didn't die?"

"Because you're disrupting the natural order of things!" Death spat back, coming to a halt. "Everything rolls out smoothly, people live their lives and when their time is up, the paperwork is filed and they come into my charge. But then somebody has to come along and blatantly defy me—"

"I didn't mean to!" Sophie jumped to her feet. "Look, I'm sorry, but sometimes you just don't bite the bullet when it seems like it's your time to go! It happens!"

"Yes, and you have no idea how much overtime I have to put in when negotiating with special cases like you! The stubborn ones make my job _extremely _difficult," his voice dropped to an angry whisper, "and trust me, that's something you don't want to do."

Sophie forced herself to meet those black eyes before Death sighed and turned away from her for a few moments.

"You've obviously proven your unwillingness to cooperate with me on two occasions…"

"All I did was accidentally not die!"

Death held up a hand. "Perhaps I've been going about this all wrong." He came back around, his face now cool and calm like it had been when Sophie got her first look at him. "We don't have to be enemies, Miss Martin. In fact, I've been known to be a welcome friend to some at the end."

Sophie didn't at all like where this conversation was heading and backed up as Death stepped forward, extending a hand. Her back hit the wall and she couldn't do anything but shiver as the tips of his fingers touched her right temple. She flinched at the stinging sensation as he drew his hand away and a trail of blue light followed it. The light swirled and danced above his outstretched palm.

"You know what this is."

Sophie didn't say a word, but gulped as his cold eyes bored into hers again.

"Yes, you know very well. It's plagued you since you were a child and has only gotten worse over time. It's nothing short of a nuisance and has brought you every kind of misfortune. If I'm not mistaken, you once said you'd do almost anything to be rid of it."

With a wave of his hand, the light vanished and Sophie inhaled sharply in surprise. She stood frozen in place as Death came close and bent down to her level, his pale lips hovering inches from her ear.

"I can take it away," he whispered, his icy breath sending a chill down her spine. "If you follow me, it will be gone forever."

"I…" Sophie's throat tightened before she could get anything else out. If she died, she would be free at last. No more accidents, no more worry. She hadn't thought of it that way before. The idea was appalling and selfish in so many ways, but she couldn't deny its allure.

"Think, Sophie, _think_! Hasn't this power caused enough trouble for you and the ones you care about? Your family? Your friends? Your significant other?"

At those words, a familiar and beloved face floated to the surface of her memory: thick rectangular glasses, messy blonde hair, bright blue eyes…

"Reggie," she gasped.

Death drew himself up to his full height. "If he truly loves you, he'll understand what this means to you. He'll understand that you would be doing him, maybe everyone around you a favor. You have no choice—"

"NO!" Sophie yelled, springing away from the wall. The defiant streak she'd discovered in the cemetery the night before had finally decided to make a second appearance.

Death's eyes flashed and he thrust his hand out again. The blue light reappeared with a crackle and wooshed across the space between them to force itself back into its owner's head. Sophie yelped and rubbed her stinging temple.

"You're wrong," she hissed through gritted teeth after the pain subsided a little. "I _do_ have a choice. I can leave!"

She whipped around and threw her arms at the office door, hoping against hope this would work. To her astonishment, she felt a strange, almost electric surge flow through her limbs and shoot out of them. The door exploded open and flew all the way around on its hinges and hit the wall with a deafening bang. The people waiting on the other side screamed and ducked for cover. Momentarily shocked at what she'd just accomplished, Sophie blinked at her hands.

"Whoa!"

"WHAT'VE YOU DONE?" Death shrieked.

Sophie snapped back to her senses and took off into the crowd, scattering people left and right. She sprinted as fast as she could across the huge room until she came to the entrance at the bottom of the tunnel, flung open the door and bounded through it.

"Sophie!" her bewildered Psychopomp called, chasing after her. "What happened? Where ya goin'? COME BACK!"

Sophie knew exactly where she was going, but there was no way she would stick around to tell Tobias about it.

xxxx

Janine stood at a window in the kitchen of the Firehouse, a steaming mug in hand, still wrapped in the blanket she'd found draped over her when she woke up. She watched the early morning light break over the city streets, deep in thought about the events of the previous day. For some reason, the part that seemed to bother her most was the odd little moment just before she slid into the car. She could have sworn she'd heard—

"Well, well," Peter mumbled as he shuffled in, "look who's up bright and early." He stifled a yawn. "Sleep well?"

"Not really. You?"

He shrugged. "Table was a little firm for my taste, but hey…"

At that moment, Janine shivered and the hair on the back of her neck stood up slightly. She had the strangest feeling…like someone other than Peter had entered the room and was watching their every move. But no one was there.

"Yoohoo," Peter waved a hand, creasing his eyebrows, "you ok there, Melnitz?"

Janine blinked a couple times and shook her head. "Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Ok, then," Peter sounded unconvinced. "Can I get you anything?"

Janine, still half-distracted by the feeling, placed the mug on the counter and blurted the first word that came to mind. "Toast."

"Comin' right up."

A couple minutes later, Peter pushed a plate with two slightly blackened slices of bread into her hands. She took a piece and bit down with a loud crunch.

_Janiiiine…!_

She jumped as the faint plea echoed through her head. "Huh?"

Peter smacked his head on the inside of the fridge where he'd been rummaging around for some jam.

"OW! What's _wrong_ with you?"

"D-didn't…didn't you hear that?" Janine stuttered.

"No," Peter said slowly, straightening back up while rubbing his head. "Y'know, maybe we should get those two mad-scientists out there to give it a rest and take a look at you."

Janine glowered. "I am _not_ crazy, and I'm _not _putting that stupid colander on my head, especially this early in the morning."

"Alright, alright. Just thought I'd make a suggestion. But for the record, you pull off the look very well."

_Janiiiine…!_

The cry was louder this time and it sounded just like... Janine gasped as two and two came together with incredible force. The plate fell from her hands and shattered on the floor.

"Well, if the toast was that bad, you could've just told—"

"She's here!" Janine let the blanket slide from her shoulders to join the shards of the plate on the ground.

"Wha…?" Peter pulled a confused look. "Who's here? What're you talking—"

She didn't bother to explain but dashed across the room and out into the lab where Egon, Ray and Winston were gathered around the table.

"Guys!" she yelled, skidding to a stop. "I can hear Sophie! She's in the Firehouse!"


	6. Conclusions

***This chapter was fairly difficult to write, so it took me a little longer to get it posted. I think I broke my brain. And for those of you interested, author's notes for "Something Wicked This Way Comes" are now posted on my blog. You can find the address at the top of my profile page.**

**Chapter 5**

**Conclusions**

Egon, Ray and Winston stared at Janine, each of their faces a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Uh…come again?" said Ray as Peter appeared from the kitchen as well and joined them by the table.

Janine groaned. "What part of 'I can hear her, she's in the Firehouse' didn't you understand?"

"It's awfully early in the morning, for jokes, Janine," Winston said, then wisely shut his mouth as she shot him a nasty look.

"I'm not making this up. Back in the cemetery, right before we left, I thought I heard her calling out to us."

At this news, Egon immediately pulled out a PKE meter, switched it on and began sweeping it around in the air.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" asked Ray, looking excited. He leaned forward with his palms on the table, eager for more details.

"It was so crowded and noisy in that place I just thought I was hearing things," said Janine, "until now. A few seconds ago in the kitchen, I heard her voice saying my name. It was faint, but I _know_ it was her!"

The other three looked at Peter expectantly.

He shrugged. "She did seem a little distracted in there."

Janine rolled her eyes. "I don't see what's so hard about this. What's our catchphrase again?"

"'We're ready to believe you'," Ray answered automatically.

"Exactly. Now stop staring at me like I just stepped out of a UFO from Mars or something."

"What, you mean you didn't?" Peter asked, grinning.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, then ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. "Ok, lemme see if I can explain this better. Egon, do you remember back before you fought Gozer when I told you I was psychic and I was afraid something terrible was going to happen to you? That you were going to die?"

"Well, yes…but I'm still here. I didn't die."

"So I was a little off on that one. But something terrible _did_ happen to you, didn't it? I hit that one on the head—"

"Janine," Ray interjected, straightening up, "we tested you several times after that and your psychic abilities barely made a blip on the machine."

"And I haven't been picking up any readings on the meter." Egon switched it off and furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing the five-o-clock shadow that had sprung up on his chin overnight.

"And why are you the only one who can sense her presence and not us?" Ray asked thoughtfully.

"I know what I heard!" Janine burst out. "She's in this room right now and needs our help!"

"We never disagreed with you." Ray sounded a little taken aback at her tone. "Besides, that last question was rhetorical."

Winston stepped over and took a firm hold of Janine's shoulders. "Everybody take it easy. We've had a rough couple of days and it's not going to help things if we start getting upset…" he trailed off.

Something inside Egon's brain had visibly clicked. He turned and walked back to the blackboard, picked up the chalk and drew a wide circle around a group of equations.

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions at this point," he said, almost to himself, "but Janine may be on to something."

"_Now_ he says so," she muttered crossly under her breath.

"Like what?" asked Peter.

"Well," Egon said, absentmindedly slipping the chalk into a front jumpsuit pocket, "the lightning bolt that dispersed the Sorcerer's manifestation may have sent what was left of Sophie into another dimension."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "You told us that yesterday. Care to elaborate further?"

Egon looked only too happy to oblige. Hands behind his back, he started a methodical pace back and forth in front of the board as if he were lecturing one of his former classes at the university.

"As evidenced by the Sorcerer's uncanny resemblance to Sophie last night, Ray and I have come to the conclusion that her transition into the Sorcerer may not have finished as smoothly as he'd hoped. It might have been interrupted somehow. Perhaps we hindered it when we stopped her from devouring the contents of our fridge or she may have put up a struggle during the last stage. However it happened, the process was altered significantly enough that he only gained control of her spirit, not her entire being. When the lightning bolt hit, only her soul was displaced."

Peter turned to Ray. "Translate."

"The last stage was incomplete. That's why the Sorcerer still looked and sounded more like Sophie than himself and why we could see right through him…or her. Because of all this, her soul is stuck somewhere other than inside her body where it should be. We could say she's having an out-of-body experience of sorts."

"Hang on," said Winston, "if her spirit's been sent to a different dimension, that must mean…"

"Her body's still out there," Ray finished.

"But I thought the two of you were thinking she isn't really dead," a voice said from behind them.

They all turned to see Reggie standing in the doorway, wearing an extra bathrobe, hair damp and a towel thrown over his shoulder. He'd snapped out of his blues enough to find his way to the shower to clean up a bit and had just arrived on the scene.

"Who told you that?" Janine asked.

Reggie pointed at Winston. "He did."

"That's what you two were saying, isn't it?" Winston asked quickly, turning to Ray.

"Relax," he replied, "you heard us right."

Winston let out a relieved breath.

"She's not dead. At least we don't _think_ so. But she's not alive, either. Her physical and spiritual halves have been separated, but not in the way you'd think."

"Her soul has been thrown slightly out of phase from the physical plane as well as the spiritual," Egon added, "which is probably why we can't pick her up on the meter."

"You mean she's not a ghost?" Peter asked.

"Right."

"I don't get it, then. I thought psychics could only talk to dead people. If she's not officially a ghost, why can Janine hear her?"

"Maybe I'm special," Janine retorted, folding her arms.

"No comment."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Hey!" Reggie interjected before the argument could get any further. "What're we gonna do about this?"

Ray sighed heavily. "We think there's a chance we could find a way into whatever dimension she's trapped in. It's pretty risky, but we might be able to pull it off."

"We've already started working out the preliminary details," said Egon. "We could possibly create a device which would convert our molecular structure into an artificial state similar to Sophie's, therefore enabling us to locate her soul, return it to the physical plane and reunite it with her body."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Egon cleared his throat. "_Ahem…_that's the basic idea, anyway."

"Whoa, whoa," Winston held up a hand, "are you saying this thing's gonna bring her back to life? Doesn't that seem a little insane to you? Like the Frankenstein-mad-scientist kind of insane?"

"We're not bringing Sophie back to life," Egon answered matter-of-factly, "so it technically can't be considered 'reanimating the dead'. As we've established before, she's not really dead."

"At least not that you _think_," Peter added, giving Ray a nudge in the side.

Winston shrugged. "Whatever you say, man."

"Alright, then," said Peter, "we know where her soul went…well, Janine knows where it went, but what about her body? Was anybody keeping tabs on that last night?"

"It's gotta be in the mausoleum," said Winston.

Peter stared at him. "How'd you figure that out so fast?"

"Where else would it be? It only makes sense since that's where the Sorcerer came from."

"Right," Ray agreed. "That place was important to the Sorcerer from the beginning. They must've taken her down there to finish the transformation."

"Ok…did I miss something," asked Peter, "or does everybody beside me know what's going on?"

"Looks like it," Ray grinned and returned the nudge, a little harder than Peter's had been. "But don't worry, we'll keep you posted."

"Fine, fine," Peter grumbled, massaging his side. "Let's get a move-on, then."

"I'm coming with you," Reggie blurted.

"And so am I," said Janine.

xxxx

Reggie, Janine and the Ghostbusters stepped over the caution tape stretched between the pillars of the now quiet cemetery's entrance. It was midday and the cool autumn sun made it very clear just how much damage had been done the previous night. The place was a mess of shattered tombstones, uprooted trees, and the twisted remains of the barrier. Splashes of slime dripped from the wreckage here and there and, regardless of the daylight, a faint mist still clung to the ground.

"Ugh," said Janine, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she trailed down the path after the others. "This place still gives me the creeps."

Reggie reached up and readjusted the headlamp he'd been issued before leaving the Firehouse.

"Shouldn't we have brought a couple of those proton guns just in case?"

"As far as I can tell," Egon answered from near the front of the group, "the only psychokinetic energy I'm picking up on the meter is coming from the leftover ectoplasm and even that's steadily becoming inert. Our skeleton friends must have disappeared with the Sorcerer."

"Good," mumbled Winston. "I've seen enough of those guys for the rest of my life."

"Besides," Ray added, "I don't think they allow nuclear accelerators on public transportation."

"Oh, that's right," said Peter sarcastically, slapping his forehead underneath his own headlamp, "we had to take the bus to get here because _someone_ wrecked the car last night."

"You're still on me about that?" Winston asked, sounding somewhat irritated.

"How could I forget? You nearly ran us over."

"Ok, so this isn't really about wrecking Ecto-1," Winston fired back, "it's about me almost killing you on the way to punch a hole through a giant wall so we could get in and stop the bad guy from taking over the city."

"I guess you could say that…"

"Are they always like this?" Reggie muttered to Janine while the discussion continued.

"I'd say this is worse than usual due to lack of sleep," she replied. "Peter especially. The only one who isn't really fazed by being up all night is Egon."

"Why not?"

"Let's just say his personal views on the benefits of sleep are a little…different from the average human being's."

Before Reggie could reply, the group came to a stop beside a massive heap of stone which looked like it could have been a building before it was obliterated.

"Aha!" Ray exclaimed. "Here it is!"

"Are you sure we've got the right mausoleum?" Peter asked, glancing around the area.

"Positive. Just look at how much more slime there is around this place than anywhere else."

"Alright, but if we get down there and find a bunch of moldy former mayors or something instead of the kid, you owe me. I don't know what just yet, but you owe me."

Without another word between them all, they got down to business. It took a combined effort to shift some of the heaviest stones, but soon the dilapidated steps reappeared and the search began for the former entrance. Half an hour later, they still hadn't located it.

"This thing _did_ have a way in, didn't it?" Janine gasped. She straightened and wiped the sweat from her forehead, leaving a smudge of grime in its place.

"I don't understand," said Ray, sitting down on a sizeable boulder to take a breather, "we should've found it by now."

Peter stretched himself out, comfortably propped up on his own pile of rocks a few feet away, and clasped his hands behind his head. He was the least sweaty and the least exhausted since he'd taken on the unofficial position of "supervisor" early in the digging process.

"Aw, c'mon, Stantz. It's gotta be around here somewhere. It'll probably turn up where we least expect—"

"WAAGH!"

The rest of them whipped around just in time to see Reggie disappear in an avalanche of dust and debris as the rubble he'd been standing on gave way to a gaping hole.

Peter sat up and shrugged. "Well, there ya go."

Ray and Winston were the first to rush to the edge of the black pit in the ground and flop down to their stomachs to peer inside. As they waved away the dust, they could see a narrow, curving staircase leading deep below the cemetery's surface.

"Careful!" warned Egon as he, Janine and Peter quickly joined them. "The edges may still be unstable."

"Reggie!" Ray called. "Can you hear me? Yell if you're ok!"

A few tense seconds went by before a faint coughing fit echoed up to them and a shaft of light flicked on, cutting through the darkness.

"Hey!" Reggie shouted back. "I think I found the entrance!"


	7. Beneath the Mausoleum

**Chapter 6**

**Beneath the Mausoleum**

"Kid's a regular trouble-magnet," Peter stated under his breath.

"You said it, Venkman," Winston replied as he stood up and dusted off. "I don't think I've ever been around anybody better at being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kind of makes me nervous."

"Exactly. I'm beginning to wonder if we should've brought him along at all."

Ray, oblivious to the conversation going on behind him, got to his feet as well. "Stay put, kid, we'll be right there!"

"We will?" asked Peter.

Ray shoved aside a few rocks with his feet and stepped down into the gaping passageway. The rest of them followed one by one, somewhat hesitantly.

Switching on their headlamps, they started a winding descent. An eerie silence seemed to envelope them the farther they went. Soon, the din of the city cut out altogether and the air became heavy with an unpleasant, moldy stench.

"Ugh," Peter grunted, pulling his shirt up and over his nose. "That's disgusting! I'd ask what died in here but, well, you know…"

Ray changed the subject. "How're we doing on P.K.E. levels, Spengs?"

"I'm still only picking up residual energy. Nothing to worry—"

"Guys!"

"AAAAA!" Janine and the Ghostbusters jumped and screamed collectively as Reggie hopped out from around the next bend.

"What's the _matter_ with you?!" Peter snapped, leaning against the wall for support.

"I'm fine," Reggie replied sharply. "Thanks for asking. C'mon, let's keep going." He turned an impressive about-face on the narrow step he was standing on and forged ahead.

The rest of the group exchanged quick glances and followed, still gasping. The stairs became slick and steep, making their journey more treacherous with every footfall. The thick, stale air caught in their throats and strings of sticky cobwebs clung to their faces and hands as they tried to bat them away. And it was dark—almost unnaturally dark. The headlamps barely put out enough light for them to see at all.

"Well," said Egon, breaking the long silence, "we can't have much further to go before we hit the water table or the sewage line, so I'm assuming the end is near."

Peter rolled his eyes. "That really puts this whole ordeal in perspective, Egon."

"Hey, cheer up everybody!" said Ray.

He nearly earned himself five slaps in the face for that one. The others, including Reggie who was some way ahead of them, paused to throw him looks with varying degrees of disgruntled-ness.

"We're walking into a crypt on two hours of sleep looking for a half-dead girl and you want us to _cheer up_?" Winston asked. "You have some issues, man. Serious issues."

"I didn't even get two hours."

"That doesn't help your case, Ray," Janine said, folding her arms.

Ray sighed and started down the steps. "Look, I know we're all sore and sleep-deprived, but a grim outlook on the situation can only make things—YIKES!" His arms pin-wheeled as a misplaced step sent him pitching forward into an unprepared Egon. Then the rest of them went down like a row of dominos.

Finally, the entire group landed sprawling in a cloud of dust on a large, open stretch of ground.

"What was that, Ray?" Peter said, propping himself up on his elbows. "Something about how a positive attitude will help improve our current situation…?"

The spectacular fall and Peter's snide comment didn't seem to register with Ray. He rolled over to his back. "Hey! We made it to the bottom of the stairs!" Enthusiasm practically bounced off the walls right along with his voice.

"Uuggh!" moaned Janine. "I'm so ready to be done with this place."

Winston coughed up a lungful of dust to her left. "I second that," he choked.

"Look over here!" Ray was already standing several feet away, craning his head back to aim the beam of his headlamp at the apex of a tall, gothic archway cut into the wall in front of them. "I think we've made it to the main chamber. Let's go." He stepped right through, not bothering to wait for anybody else, but Reggie was hot on his heels.

Apparently, lack of sleep held nothing on Ray today. As far as he was concerned, getting a look at whatever was on the other side of that archway outweighed the fact he'd been up all night. Janine, Peter, and Winston, on the other hand, were near the end of their ropes. Even Egon dragged a little as they staggered through the entrance in single file. The room they found on the other side was a vast, endless, dank void with a stone path running down the center.

"Wow! Would ya get a load of this?" Ray turned a slow circle to take it in.

"It's a tomb," said Winston. "There's nothing here to get a load of."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Egon pointed down the path where Reggie, facing away from them, stood still as a statue. Something had caught his attention as wasn't about to let it go. Even after the group arrived beside him, he remained stationary, staring straight ahead.

Something massive loomed up from the center of the chamber. The combined light of their headlamps revealed a pyramid-like mound of steps rising high into the dark. Six pairs of eyes followed the incline to a stone pedestal at the top with strange, ghoulish markings etched around the base. A grey shroud concealed the petite and lifeless form occupying the flat surface. Everyone knew who that form belonged to, but nobody wanted to be the first to rush up and confirm it—except Reggie.

None of them tried to stop him as he stumbled forward, climbed the steps and approached the pedestal with an outstretched hand. Then he paused as if deciding whether or not he really wanted to see what was under the cover. Summoning the necessary courage at last, he took the nearest corner of the fabric and pulled. The shroud swirled away and flowed down the steps in a flurry of dust like some sort of macabre blizzard.

She was lying flat on her back, eyes closed and hands crossed over her chest as if she was on display at her own funeral. Her clothes were ripped and smudged with dirt. Tangles of dark hair spread out from her head in every direction and draped over the side of the pedestal, but a thick lock of it obscured her face. Reggie gently moved it aside and gasped at the swollen bruise marring her pallid right cheekbone.

"Sophie." He dropped to his knees, relieved that they had found her, but appalled nonetheless. He took her freezing hand in his. "What happened to you?" He'd heard what the Ghostbusters had said about Sophie not being dead, but now that he'd had an up close and personal view of the shape she was in, he was starting to have his doubts.

"You were right, Egon." Winston joined him on top of the pyramid and the others weren't far behind. "Looks like she didn't go down easy."

Egon appeared across the pedestal from Reggie and took Sophie's other hand, wrapping two fingers around the wrist. "That's probably what saved her."

"_Saved_ her?" Reggie blurted. "Are those glasses of yours the wrong prescription or something?"

Egon ignored him. "Fascinating," he muttered to himself, deep in thought, "but truly horrifying. Complete lack of pulse indicating cardiac arrest." He dropped her hand and leaned in for a closer look at her face. "Hmm. Pallor mortis and algor mortis are also present…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Pallor mortis," Egon recited as if reading from an invisible dictionary, "paleness of the skin which usually occurs within the first twenty minutes after biological functions cease. Algor mortis, the steady decline in the body's temperature—"

"I thought you said she wasn't dead!" Reggie's voice rang out through the chamber as he jumped to his feet. "Please…please tell me that's not what you're thinking," he added quietly.

Egon stood up and adjusted his glasses, looking him straight in the eye. "She's not dead."

Peter appeared beside Reggie, rubbing his neck, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know, Egon. All this 'pallor mortis' and 'cardiac arrest' stuff you keep mumbling about…sounds to me like we've got a textbook case on our hands."

Egon reached down for one of Sophie's wrists again. "Yes, it would seem so…" He shook it and the hand flopped limply back and forth.

"Yuck!" blurted Winston. "Don't do that!"

"Wait, wait, wait," Ray rounded the pedestal to stand by Egon. "Rigor mortis should have set in hours ago."

"Exactly," replied Egon.

Janine put her face in the palm of a hand and squeezed her eyes shut. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"We need to get her back to the lab for further testing."

"Great," Peter said. "The sooner we get outta here the better. This place is weird. And stinky."

He turned to make his exit, but as he brushed by Janine, she gave a sudden, violent shiver and rubbed her hands up and down the sides of her arms.

"Whoa. You ok?"

"I d-don't think we're alone," she answered through chattering teeth.

"C'mon, Janine. That is the _last_ thing I wanna hear right now."

"She's here. Sophie. Sh-she must've followed us."

Silence fell over the top of the pyramid like a heavy blanket. Each one of them stood absolutely still, listening for the faintest indication of the presence of the ex-custodian: a footstep, a breath…

"I don't hear anything…" Peter started, and then a strange, almost amused look crossed his face. He pointed at Egon. "Ok, this is probably a stupid question, but why is there a piece of chalk floating in front of your face?"

"What? Why would there be a piece…of…chalk…" Egon trailed off and went cross-eyed. Hovering about an inch in front of his nose was a tiny, white object.

"What's _that _doing down here?"Reggie asked.

"I…I must've put it in my pocket back at the Firehouse—"

At that moment, their headlamps buzzed and flickered slightly and the chalk dropped onto the pedestal.

"It _is_ Sophie!" Ray exclaimed, picking it up. "That only happens to electrical equipment when she's around!"

"Oh, _now_ they believe me," Janine muttered, slapping her forehead.

"She must still have her power and that _proves_ she's not dead."

"How so?" asked Winston.

Egon turned to him, all too happy to explain since Ray seemed a little too excited to say anything else at the moment. "A power like that wouldn't transfer into the ghost world once its owner had passed on. She's probably using it to move the chalk. It's the only way she would be able to manipulate an object in the physical plane since she's no longer in it herself and she's not a ghost. She's lost somewhere in between this world in the next, but we don't have any way of knowing exactly where yet. Ghosts are capable of animating objects on the physical plane only because…"

Ray gasped as the headlamps flickered again and the chalk was plucked out of his fingers by some invisible force. It quivered in midair for a few seconds and fell to the ground.

"I think she's trying to tell us something."

"I thought she didn't have any control over her telekinesis." Winston said.

"The personal encounter with the Sorcerer might have changed things," Egon pointed out.

"Shh!" Reggie pressed a finger to his lips, and then pointed it down at the chalk rolling along the ground between the pedestal and the steps. "C'mon Soph," he coaxed. "Keep trying."

They watched breathlessly as the chalk slowed to a standstill.

"No, no, no!" Reggie begged the empty space in front of him, throwing out his arms. "I know you can do it! Where are you?! You have to help us out here!"

A few tense seconds passed. Suddenly, accompanied by an almighty fizzle from the headlamps, the chalk lifted into the air once again and flew in an arc toward the pedestal. It came to a stop over the empty length of stone between Sophie's feet and the edge where it lowered and began to scratch out a series of wobbly lines.

Janine, Reggie and the Ghostbusters stood transfixed as the lines formed two spidery words:

LIMBO

HELP


	8. Curses!

**Chapter 7**

**Curses!**

The chalk dropped to its side and rolled off the edge of the pedestal. Once again they stood in complete silence, anxiously waiting for something more. But the show was over. The chalk had disappeared and the beams of their headlamps returned to a steady glow. In fact, the only evidence of the strange occurrence was the white plea scrawled on the surface of the stone in front of them.

Peter shrugged. "That about sums it up, I guess. I mean, you can't get much clearer than 'Limbo' and 'help', can you?"

Ray smacked his forehead. "Of course! Limbo! Why didn't we think of that before?"

"It certainly explains a few things," added Egon.

Reggie readjusted his hat, looking thoroughly confused. "What's Limbo?"

"It's the plane of existence located somewhere between this one and the next," Ray clarified. "They say it's where you go if you get lost on the way to the afterlife or if you have unfinished business to attend to in life but died before you got around to it. There's supposed to be some sort of guide to meet you there and see you through until your fate is determined."

"Who says that?" asked Winston, scrunching his eyebrows together.

"The lucky people who have actually been to Limbo, of course. Who did you think?" A dreamy, far off expression came over Ray's face. "I'd give my right leg for a trip into that place. I've always wanted to see it just once, but I've heard it's not what one would expect…" He trailed off as everybody except Egon returned that little doozy with a blank stare. Then he sighed and came back down to earth. "I'm not making this up, guys."

"Oh, we believe you," Janine said acidly. "Sure we do…especially since you all believed me right off the bat."

"He's right, though. People all over the world have testified about near-death experiences of the sort Sophie may be going through at the moment. In fact, there have been several hundred plausible cases recorded in this decade alone. Such incidences are somewhat rare, but they _do_ happen."

"And are all those lucky people relatives of the ones who've been abducted by aliens multiple times?" Peter asked.

"Extra-terrestrial encounters aren't covered in our line of work, Peter. You should know that by now."

"It was a joke. Forget it."

"Ok," Winston cut into the conversation. "We know where Sophie went. Now what do we do about it? How do we get her back to the physical plane where she belongs?"

"Well," Ray said, "that's the tricky part. No one's ever voluntarily travelled into Limbo before…at least not that we know of."

"You guys say that a lot," muttered Reggie. He was beginning to think these crazies never had any idea about what they were doing until after the fact.

"And there might be other forces at work that we'll have to take into account," Ray continued. "You know, like the eternal struggle between life and death and all that."

"'And all that,' he says," Peter grumbled to himself.

"But now that we know for sure what happened to her," Egon added, "we're almost positive our plans will work.

"_Almost _positive?"

"I see complications in our future," said Winston. "Major ones."

"You see," Egon went on, "we think that by altering the structure of the—"

"Yeah, yeah," Peter waved his hands. "We'll trust you on whatever you're about to take an hour to explain. Just don't run up a huge power bill like you did three months ago while trying to come up with that virtual reality snack machine thingy."

Reggie stole a glance at Janine but she sent a don't-even-bother-asking-about-it look in his direction.

"The smell in this place is making me sick." Peter rubbed his forehead. "I say it's time to pack up and go home. I need a nap. And maybe a shower."

Only too happy to oblige, Reggie turned to his partially dead and very limp girlfriend. He wanted out of here as much as the next guy, who, in reality, happened to be Peter.

"WAIT, STOP!" Ray bellowed, throwing a hand out and lurching forward—but it was too late. Reggie had already scooped Sophie into his arms.

"Whoa!" Winston said. "Easy Stantz. What was that all about?"

A low rumbling resonated through the chamber as if in answer to his question.

"Those markings around the base…I-I think they might spell out some kind of curse!"

"_What_?!" the others shouted in unison.

Egon rounded on Ray. "A curse? Why didn't you tell us this before?!"

"Yeah!" added Peter. "And why didn't we bring along a bag of sand to replace the kid on the table? Wait, I take it back. That didn't work in _Indiana Jones_, either."

"Sorry, it just hit me!"

"People need to know about these things ahead of time!"

"The Head Ghost must've set a trap in case we came back looking for her. He obviously planned it—"

An abrupt jolt nearly sent them all toppling off the top of the pyramid in every direction and chunks of stone and ornamental plaster began raining down from above. One chunk in particular came within mere inches of flattening Janine and went crashing down the stairs. That was all the motivation they needed to get a move on.

"I think we've suddenly stopped caring about the explanation, Ray!" Peter yelled over the escalating noise. "RUUUUUN!"

Nobody argued. All they did was make an adrenaline-induced dash down the steps and across the room. Bringing up the rear, Ray barely cleared the falling archway as the group started a frantic climb up the winding tunnel. It only took five minutes to scramble back the way they came in since they were trying to outrun an entire collapsing passage.

Finally, a jagged square of daylight appeared overhead. Peter popped through it first and threw himself aside to a safe distance. The others weren't far behind. Reggie came next, panting from the extra effort of carrying Sophie all the way at top speed. Egon, Winston, and then Ray surfaced after him—

"Where's Janine?!" Ray asked. "I thought she was right in front of me!"

"HEEEEELP!" Janine's shrill cry was barely audible over the noise of crumbling stone.

Without skipping a beat, Egon whipped around and plunged back into the plume of dust coming out of the entrance. Seconds later, just as the remains of the mausoleum began to cave in, he reappeared, half-dragging, half-carrying the white-faced secretary. With a death defying leap, he managed to get the toe of one boot on the very edge of solid ground, but it wasn't enough.

"WHOAAA!" he yelled and Janine pitched in with a fair amount of screaming. With Egon's other leg flying out over empty space, they began tipping backwards into the growing sinkhole.

"Hang on, man!" Winston jumped to the rescue, snagging Egon by the front of his jumpsuit. With a grunt and an incredible yank, he pulled them away from the brink and they sprawled flat on the ground.

With a horrible sucking noise like a massive drain trying to swallow something it shouldn't, all that was left of the tomb vanished into a yawning black hole. The rumbling died away and the dust cleared, but nobody dared to take a look. For a few moments, the only sounds were heavy breathing and pounding hearts as they made sure they really were still alive.

"Thanks…Winston…" Egon said between gasps, raising his head. "We…owe you one."

Winston rolled to his back to stare gratefully at the sky. "No…prob. Tha…that was…some tr…trap. How come…that didn't show up…on the meter?"

"I lost…it in the little…spill we took on the way…down the stairs."

Ray belly-crawled to Janine, who was still lying face-down in the crispy brown grass. "Where did you go? One second you were right in front of me, and the next…poof!"

She didn't bother to look up. "Tripped," she replied. "Twisted my ankle."

Peter staggered over. "Roll call. Winston?"

"Right here."

"Egon?"

"Here."

"Ray?"

"Yeah."

"Kid?"

"Which one?" Reggie asked. He was crouching beside Sophie, making sure no serious damage had been done during their hasty exit. Apart from a couple scratches and the fact that she wasn't breathing and had no pulse to speak of, she was fine.

"Well, you're both here more or less, so it doesn't matter. How about Janine? Are you ok?"

"I _hate _this place!" she snarled. "And I'm _never_ coming to work again! Ever! I don't get paid _nearly_ enough to put up with this, so I _quit_!" Several other choice phrases came out of her mouth, but they were lost in the ground. Exhausted, terrified and in serious need of some pain killers on the spot, she'd had about all she could handle for the day.

Peter took a step away from her, grinning slightly. "Same old, same old. Why'd I even ask?"


	9. Goodbye Reggie

**Chapter 8**

**Goodbye Reggie**

Work on the Limbo-contraption (nobody knew exactly what else to call it) started early the next morning. It was apparent that Ray and Egon hadn't given much thought to eating, sleeping or personal hygiene since Sophie had disappeared two days ago. They looked awful, their faces unshaven with dark circles under their eyes, but they seemed not to care or even notice. All that mattered to them at the moment was building their machine and setting their plans in motion.

Peter and Winston, on the other hand, had recovered somewhat from the week's interesting series of events. No major calls had come up, but the two of them went out earlier in the morning to handle a couple of small disturbances downtown. It wasn't as if they had anything better to do…

Ray and Egon were far too absorbed in their own world to respond to any offers of help. Winston had already tried that. Peter, of course, could care less and went about his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary. All they could do now was watch and wait as the strange machine began to take form in front of them.

At first, the sparks and the zapping sounds coming from the work area were a little annoying, even alarming. Soon enough, however, they became nothing more than background noise. When Ray and Egon spoke to each other, it was like listening to a completely alien language. Peter and Winston didn't have the slightest clue what they were saying so there was no way of knowing how things were progressing or when the machine would be finished. Finally, Peter had had enough and stepped out.

Janine, despite her claims about never coming to work again, had hobbled in later that morning on a pair of crutches. Her mood hadn't improved much since their adventure under the mausoleum yesterday, but at least she was a little less sleep-deprived. She mumbled a greeting to Winston, then sat across from him at the table to watch Ray and Egon.

At first she was curious, but after about thirty minutes of staring at them, she'd drawn a blank and her mind felt numb. So did her backside. She gathered her crutches and stood, aiming to check up on Sophie.

As she made her way to the far corner of the lab where the girl had been placed on the usual cot, she had to wonder why she'd even bothered. It wasn't as if the kid was going anywhere anytime soon. Sophie was covered in wires again, but the readings on the machine monitors were disturbingly flat. It was such a contrast to the furious jumble of peaks and valleys they had picked up just a few days before.

Janine sighed and glanced at Reggie. He was in the same place he'd been since she'd arrived: slumped down in a chair beside the cot, sound asleep. One hand was stretched out, clasped firmly around his girlfriend's. He must've been there all night. Apparently, nobody had had the heart to send him home. Not even Peter.

A slight smile played on Janine's lips. The kid was loyal to a fault, no doubt about that. She found herself wondering if a certain male in this room would ever stand guard over her like that if she was stuck in Limbo…

"Honey, I'm home!" Peter's voice echoed from the second floor landing and was soon followed by his entrance into the room. "I come bearing gifts!" He put down the paper bags he was holding.

Winston, who'd been lost in a book up until now, closed it and looked up. "Where you been, Venkman?"

"Oh, out and about." He pulled an elongated parcel from one of the bags and held it under Winston's nose.

"Is this what I think it is?" Winston took it immediately and ripped off the paper wrapper to reveal a delicious-looking sandwich.

"I just figured we'd need to eat if we're going to be sitting here all day." Peter reached into another bag and pulled out two more.

Janine hobbled over to the table and dropped heavily into a chair.

Peter cast a glance at her, looking more amused than surprised. "Well, well. Look who showed up. I thought you said you weren't coming back."

Janine merely scowled in response, not in the mood for a debate.

Peter shrugged and pushed one of the other sandwiches in her direction. "Lucky I got extra."

"How thoughtful of you."

Peter sat down with his own sandwich and took a look at Ray and Egon, still buried in their project and showing no signs of coming up for air in the next decade. Rolling his eyes, he reached into a coat pocket, drew something out and tossed it onto the table. It was a pack of playing cards.

"We'll probably be here for a while. Might as well get comfy."

xxxx

Two hours and several poker games later, Janine was feeling a bit richer and a lot happier. The growing pile of cash in front of her was definitely helping to improve her mood.

"And you said we don't pay you enough," Peter grumbled.

Janine smirked and was just about to lay down more devastation when a loud, crackling zap brought everyone back to reality. Cards and money went flying everywhere as a puff of white smoke came billowing from across the room.

"EUREKA!" Ray shouted from somewhere in the cloud. "It's finished!"

"_Finished_?" Winston asked, clutching his chest. "Sounds finished, alright. Like you just finished it off for good."

"No, no, no," Egon appeared out of the haze. "That was just the last step."

"So the last step was to fry the entire lab—OW!" Peter jerked back from the cluster of bills he'd been trying to spirit into his pocket while he spoke. Unfortunately, Janine noticed and he earned himself a nice slap on the back of the hand.

"Don't even think about it," she warned and began stuffing as much as the money into her own pockets as she could.

"What's going on?" Reggie, looking pale and very startled, had appeared next to the group.

"Lady and gentlemen," Ray announced with a flourish, waving away the last of the smoke. "We give you…the Physical Molecular Structure De-Materializer!"

Total silence. Peter, Winston, Janine, and Reggie stared dumbstruck at the complicated piece of equipment which had sprung into existence while they were otherwise occupied. It looked a bit like a tall, metallic spider with five legs that branched out from a wire and tube covered pillar topped with a silver sphere. Each leg hovered above a circular platform with a dentist's office-style seat in the middle.

Egon cleared his throat. "Ray came up with the name."

"Figures," replied Janine.

"So, whaddaya think?" Ray asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Winston snorted. "I think that thing's gonna kill us."

"Well," Egon said, rubbing his chin, "it won't _actually_ kill us. Not completely, anyway."

"That's comforting," Peter muttered, then folded his arms. "Where did you get all this junk, anyway?"

"To put it in technical terms," Egon continued, ignoring Peter, "it will only sever our physical and spiritual halves, thus creating an artificial state similar to the one Sophie is currently in. We have also located the approximate dimensional—"

"Ray?"

Ray sighed. "What he's saying is that this machine will send our souls into Limbo while preserving our physical state on this plane of existence."

"That's all we needed to know." Peter gave a nod. "Thank you, Dr. Stantz. That will be all."

Winston shook his head, looking doubtful. "I don't like this. All this talk about splitting us apart… It gives me the creeps!"

"Do you guys even know if this thing will work?" Reggie asked. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but he couldn't help posing the question anyway.

Egon and Ray exchanged a brief look.

"Well, we, uh…" Ray rubbed his head, trying to find the right words. "Not exactly..."

Egon stepped into his rescue. "We haven't been able to run any tests as of yet."

"Obviously," Janine mumbled under her breath.

"C'mon, man!" said Winston. "You're saying we're gonna have our souls ripped out and you don't even know if you can put us back together again?!"

Peter stepped up and put an arm around his shoulder. "Oh, Winston, Winston, Winston. I don't think we have anything to worry about. In fact, I have a feeling that everything will be just fine."

"What are you talking about?"

He let go of Winston. "I'm sure you all remember the countless times we've used untested equipment…"

"And the countless lawsuits that using that equipment has landed us in," Janine added.

"Yes, well, this time around is going to be different. I think we could spare just a _little_ bit of time for a short test run, don't you, Spengs?"

Egon considered this proposal for a second or two, then nodded. "It would probably be in our best interest. But the test will require the use of an actual human being in order to accurately calculate the machine's effects."

"That's insane!" Reggie blurted before he could stop himself. "It's _unethical_! Who do you creeps think you're gonna use as a guinea pig?!"

Peter turned to him, a calm, almost evil smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Why, Reggie!" he swept the young man's hat off and ruffled his blonde hair. "How brave of you to volunteer."

Ten minutes later, an extremely unhappy Reggie had been wrestled into one of the seats as Janine watched from a distance. It took the combined efforts of Peter, Winston and Ray to hold him down while Egon tightened a silver metal loop with a little antenna at the back around the top of his head.

"Stop struggling," Egon said through gritted teeth. "You'll skew the data."

"Are you kidding?" Reggie answered, still trying as hard as he could to squirm out and make a break for it. "Who cares about the data? You're gonna skew my brain!"

"Don't make us sedate you, kid," grunted Ray.

"They'll do it," Peter added. "Take my word for it. Listen, do you wanna save your girlfriend or not?"

"Yeah, but I don't want my soul fried in the process! Isn't there some other way we can do this?"

"No," said Winston. "This is the only machine in the whole world of its kind. If somebody else had discovered a different way into Limbo before now, I guarantee Ray and Egon would already have researched it to death... Uh, no pun intended."

Reggie stopped fighting them. Finally, he sighed, closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest.

"Fine…fine, I'll be your stupid guinea pig. But keep in mind this isn't for you guys or for science or whatever. It's for Sophie."

"Of course," said Peter as he, Ray and Winston let go and stepped back.

Egon finished attaching all the necessary wires and paraphernalia to Reggie and hooked them up to a couple monitors sitting on a tabletop about fifteen feet away. Ray took his leave of the group and stepped behind the makeshift command center where he began punching buttons on a panel.

After a few seconds, he looked up and gave a thumbs-up. "We're all set back here, Spengler."

"Very good," Egon replied, giving Reggie's colorful scattering of wires one last check before joining Ray. "Now, I suggest the rest of you clear the area. You'll probably be safest back here with us."

Peter and Winston didn't need to be told twice.

"Janine," Egon turned to her. "We could use your help."

She blinked. "Huh? Me?"

"Yes. Your unusual psychic abilities will probably be the only means of tracking Reggie once he's crossed the dimensional border. We've rigged a special system that will enable us to 'see' into the dimension in which Limbo is located."

"Well…alright." Janine picked up her crutches and slowly made her way over to them. Once she was there, Ray pulled out the colander. She rolled her eyes. "_That _ thing again?"

"C'mon, Janine," pleaded Ray. "You've got to help us out, here. Sophie's depending on it."

"Ok, ok!" She grabbed the colander and jammed it onto her head.

After that, Egon and Ray began throwing switches and entering commands into one of the computers. Ray gripped a red lever, pushed it forward, and the machine hummed to life. Suddenly, a bright blue spark crackled from the sphere along one of the arms to Reggie's head. He yelped and gripped the arms of the seat as the lightning connected with the antenna on the headband and went on to illuminate his entire body. For a split second, Janine and the Ghostbusters had a spectacular view of every bone in his body.

Janine gasped and moved in to shove Ray's hand off the lever. "Stop! Stop it! You're going to kill him!"

Egon caught her before she could get any further. "It won't kill him, but if you interrupt the process now it could cause some severe damage."

"To him or the machine?" asked Winston.

"Both. We need more power, Ray."

"Comin' right up." He moved the lever forward again. The intensity of the lightning increased until everyone in the room was nearly blinded and had to shield their eyes. The sizzling bursts of electric blue energy stabilized into a steady glow. Above the incredible buzzing and hissing of the machine, they could hear Reggie yelling at the top of his lungs.

And then, with a final explosion of light, an eerie near-silence dropped on the room like a curtain. The buzzing stopped and was replaced with that quiet, mechanical hum. The five of them opened their eyes and froze in horror. Reggie was absolutely still.


End file.
